


The Boy Who Cried Rabbit

by Reavv



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different Powers, Eventual Romance, Gen, Multi, but not very romantic at all, the power of cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 23:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11954808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reavv/pseuds/Reavv
Summary: Because Tsuna is small, cute, and he’s able to use that to his advantage in ways most people just can’t understand.





	The Boy Who Cried Rabbit

**Author's Note:**

> continuation of that drabble i wrote a while back in my "Works of progress and other bad ideas" series

When Tsuna is very young, he’s a target of bullies. He’s small, cute, and unable to stand up for himself. Boys who tease him walk away feeling strong; they barely have to do anything to make him cry. Tsuna’s left nursing bruises and tears, and those first few years are truly educational for him. Because tears work against adults: they panic and flail and do anything to make him stop. They smile at his pouting and let him get away with things others wouldn’t be able to.

His peers though find his wet eyes and shyness a weakness. Something to pick on. But he notices something strange in the way they go about it. 

When he cries, and it is always a when instead of an if, their aggression winds down, mostly without their own input. If there’s a group there’s always one who will push the others and tell them to stop as soon as the tears start: if it’s just one person they look confused, and then panicked, and then they say some more mean stuff before running away. 

He might be called a crybaby, but they don’t dare touch him. As if his sorrow will rub against them and infect them with the way he shakes and gasps. 

The kids who go farther, who like it when he cries and try to get him to, who don’t care about his pain at all, well, as he grows older and still stays small, and cute, they eventually find themselves pitted against a very strong deterrent:

Girls faced by a cute thing in danger.

Like a kitten being kicked by kids in an alley he finds himself a group of saviors both susceptible to his perceived vulnerability and willing to fight for it. It almost starts a full scale playground war: dragging in those from the upper years and, eventually, the teachers themselves. As the years go by, it only gets worse, and sometimes when he finds himself being tugged into a circle of protective girls with bright beads on their wrists and bloodthirsty smiles, he thinks it could almost be called a superpower. 

Because Tsuna is small, cute, and he’s able to use that to his advantage in ways most people just can’t understand. For every bully unable to resist his wet eyes are five others who like the feeling of protecting him. In both cases they want to feel strong because of his weakness: in both cases it’s the way he cries that instigates it. Sometimes it’s even his old antagonists who steps up to the plate, who refuse to let anyone else hurt this small bird they cup protectively between their hands. 

Whether it’s guilt, or just a natural progression from pulling pigtails for attention to more positive modes of interaction, Tsuna doesn’t know and mostly doesn’t care. He benefits though, he benefits quite a lot. 

And this power of his only grows stronger. Soon only those not exposed are able to resist: transfer students are immune for a few weeks before peer pressure and natural instincts take over. It’s strange, and completely against most child psychology texts out there. 

But then again, Tsuna has never been normal either. 

—

The child has large, wet eyes, and large, fluffy hair. Both the eyes and hair are the colour of burnished wheat. There’s small trinkets tucked carefully in the strands: beads and bows and ribbon twisted delicately into braids. Its eyes are framed by long lashes that quiver slightly as it stares up at him. 

Hibari frowns and catalogues the rest, tonfa lowering just slightly. There’s dirt on its knees, consistent with being pushed to the ground, and off in the distance he can see an older girl holding a boy by the back of his shirt and shaking him. Determining that his presence is no longer needed if the herbivores are policing their own, he holsters his weapon. 

The child takes a gulping breath and smiles a little shyly up at him. Hibari makes note of the fluttery feeling in his chest and glares down at it. 

“...Be more careful next time, little bird.” 

—

By the time Tsuna is ten he’s amassed a group of friends ranging from young to old. In particular there's a group of older girls who love doing his hair and helping him with homework: he's invited to parties and day trips and although it's no longer needed as much some of them still walk him home. 

In his own grade there's a few too; Sasagawa Kyoko being the most influential even if her best friend Hana seems less enthralled by Tsuna’s general everything. The boys he’s a little less involved with, but that's mostly because his class in particular is really into sports (no doubt in part due to Yamamoto Takeshi and his baseball arm), but there’s a few in the literature club that he enjoys talking with. 

And then there’s Hibari and his gang, which although no one can find any evidence of it, Hana says is totally wrapped around Tsuna’s finger. Since he gets away with wearing the hair decorations the girls adorn him with Tsuna’s inclined to agree, and has a theory that the only reason Hibari isn’t immune to Tsuna’s effect is that he’s already weak to animals. Tsuna’s definitely seen him pet a stray cat before. 

Even Hibari’s second, Kusakabe Tetsuya, seems weirded out by the way Hibari becomes almost non-aggressive when faced with Tsuna’s pout. It’s almost un-noticeable if you weren’t Tsuna (or Hana), and so no one really talks about it. Hibari still goes about doing semi-illegal things and beating up students that disobey the rules, so it isn’t as if there’s a weakness there that people can use. 

“I’m just saying, it’s a little unnatural,” Hana says with a frown, watching the way Tsuna compares his nails to Kyoko’s. Both are brightly painted and sparkly. 

“I’m confident in my masculinity,” Tsuna says simply. 

“Not you, idiot, Hibari and his inability to chastise you. Or at least do it the way he normally does. I’m pretty sure he went to pet your head last time,” she complains, ignoring Kyoko’s giggles and Tsuna’s innocent look. 

“No one can prove that,” he says, eyes flickering back down to his hands, a little smile at the corner of his lips. 

Hana can feel her own lips purse. Tsuna’s changed a lot from the weak-willed little boy she remembers: this is a kid who’s been spoiled rotten by his looks. It’s a good thing that she’s not as susceptible to whatever weird powers of enthrallment he has. 

“I think it’s cute!” Kyoko chirps, finally deeming both her and Tsuna’s hands done drying. 

“Of course you would,” Hana mutters, burying her nose in her math booklet, used to Kyoko’s love of everything sugary sweet, even boys. 

“If we want to talk weirdness, let’s talk about this new teacher’s love of math problems involving fish. I’m not sure how long this one will last,” Tsuna says, eyes flickering to his own unopened booklet. 

For some reason, ever after the original teacher left amid scandal and rumours, their class' ability to retain a math teacher for more than a few months is non-existent. It’s a real curse, and one that only affects the class Tsuna ends up in. 

(Strangely, that’s also the class Kyoko and Hana end up in every year, too.) 

“You can’t distract me, fish-eyes,” Hana mutters, pointer her pencil in his face, “I know you’re doing something.” 

Tsuna rolls his eyes and taps his newly-painted fingers to his lips. 

“Are you seriously blaming me for, what? Brainwashing Hibari?” 

“Yes!” Hana huffs and leans back a little, chair precariously balanced as she turns her stare to the ceiling. 

“Let’s see, that time he totally helped you find a missing hair clip—”

“I don’t think that counts, he found it by beating up some yakuza—”

“That you angered for some unknown reason! And then there was the time some out-of-towners decided to try and bully you into buying them drinks—”

“Oh come on, that wasn’t even Hibari—”

“It was his minions! It totally counts, because you know either he ordered them to do it, or they were scared of his reaction if he found out his favourite herbivore got hurt on their watch—”

“Oh please,” Tsuna begins, only to be interrupted again. 

“AND! And you know the time with the black suited Italia—hey wait, you never explained why a bunch of well-dressed foreigners were after you in the first place.”

Tsuna resolutely looks away, accidentally making eye contact with Kyoko’s sly expression in a bid to escape Hana’s suspicion. 

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” he mutters, hiding his eyes from both the girls. 

“Uhuh,” Hana says slowly, leaning out of her slouch and pressing a hand down on his desk, “I wouldn’t trust that from you even when you are trying to lie convincingly. Fess up, Tuna-chan.” 

Tsuna wrinkles his nose, the sound of his father’s nickname for him on Hana’s lips truly disturbing. The truth is he doesn’t know why those men in particular were after him, but they aren’t the only suited-men who’ve tried something in the past year. Most of the time either Hibari or one of his minions shows up in time, but sometimes Tsuna has to get out of trouble by himself. It’s lucky that no one expects him to know how to throw a punch. And that he’s so good at running. 

Before Hana can press him further, the classroom door goes flying off its hinges. 

“Little bird,” Hibari grunts upon seeing him, and Tsuna despairs for the boy’s sense of timing. Now he’ll really never be able to stop Hana’s questions. From behind the prefect a few of his minions stream out, obviously hunting for something or someone among the suddenly terrified desks. Even the teacher is frozen at the front of the room. 

“We’re looking for a prohibited item that’s been brought onto campus,” Kusakabe-san says from beside Hibari, clipboard in hand. “If you would all open your bags for inspection.” 

As one the class scrambles to open book bags and pencil cases, and the Discipline Committee members move to pick apart the contents, mostly by dumping them out onto the desk and ruffling through the remains. 

“Shit,” Hana mutters, fingers twitching towards her own bag. Tsuna eyes her, taking in her suddenly nervous expression and the way she’s trying to hide the bag in her lap. 

“Give it here,” Kyoko says, smile never once breaking. Tsuna watches as the two girls switch bags, seemingly without Hibari or the minions’ notice. 

“What are you doing?” he whispers, and then watches incredulously as Kyoko reaches into the bag and pulls out a rolled up wad of yen, big enough that it threatens to escape her small hands. He can feel his eyes widen as she then nonchalantly stuffs the whole thing into her bra. 

“What?” he repeats, but neither girl pays him any mind, instead staring straight ahead, Kyoko still with a sweet smile. He feels his confusion mount even further as they go about dumping the contents of their bags with the rest of the class. So much so that he barely gets his own opened and upturned by the time one of the minions gets to their row. 

“Sawada,” the minion greets cordially, running an eye over Tsuna’s collection of sparkly bits and bobs. He can tells there’s a moment where the boy debates confiscating them, before he seemingly remembers who he’s looking at. 

Tsuna smiles at him at watches his resolve melt further. 

“Committee-senpai! So diligent at your job, it must be tough,” he chirps, leaning forward so he appears smaller in his chair and gets a better angle at blinking up at him. 

“I hope the item you’re looking for isn’t dangerous.” Kyoko joins him in sparkling at the boy, saccharine smile turned up to the max. 

“Oh no, no danger,” the boy blusters, red cheeked and suddenly awkward. Tsuna has to elbow Hana to stop her from the laughing fit she seems poised to burst into. Under the combined weight of both Tsuna’s and Kyoko’s fluttering lashes the minion shuffles off in a daze, almost forgetting to start his inspection at the next desk. 

Both Tsuna and Kyoko unclench their hands from the death grip they have their hands in, nails safe from the unjust fist of school uniform policies once again. 

“If you guys just stopped painting your nails at school, this wouldn’t be a problem,” Hana mutters, shuffling her books back into her bag. 

“We wouldn’t if the teacher didn’t make it so easy. I mean, the smell of nail polish isn’t easy to ignore, and yet we haven’t gotten caught yet,” Kyoko whispers back. 

“Ignore that, what was that with the money?” Tsuna pipes up, shoving his things messily back into place. 

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Kyoko says. Tsuna starts to respond, but a shadow moving over his desk stops his words before he can even form them. 

“Sawada,” Hibari says, eyes flickering from Tsuna’s braids to his painted nails. There’s a second where Tsuna thinks this will finally be the day Hibari overcomes his weakness, but then the prefect notices the little bird charm hanging from Tsuna’s bracelet, and he visibly crumbles. 

“...yes?” Tsuna asks when it looks like Hibari is just going to stand there staring at him. 

“Management duties after class, don’t be late,” the older boy snaps, coat flaring dramatically as he stalks away. There’s a scream a few rows away that Tsuna and the girls resolutely keep from turning towards. 

“Looks like they found whatever they were looking for,” Kyoko says cheerfully, staring straight ahead. 

“Forget that, I'm more curious as to how Sawada is going to wiggle out of this one. Management duties, huh?” Hana mutters, viciously poking Tsuna in the side.

“Ow, stop that, it’s not as exciting as it sounds. It’s mostly paperwork,” Tsuna responds, wiggling out of the way. He doesn't mention that it’s also Hibari’s code for more suit-clad men waiting for him outside, something that started up when it looked like it would be a common occurrence. It’s a win/win as far as Tsuna’s concerned, he gets to relax in the relative safety of the committee club house, and Hibari gets to beat up more upstart foreigners.

“Uhuh.” Hana doesn’t sound like she believes him, but then again the girl does seem to blame him for every strange occurrence. 

Tsuna’s saved from answering by the school bell, and he takes the opportunity to grab his stuff and book it. 

“Gotta go, wouldn’t want to be late, see you tomorrow!” 

—

Tsuna walks home after finishing up the Discipline Committee’s paperwork—which mostly consisted of shredding the police memos on appropriate force—and greets him mom at the door. It’s obvious where Tsuna got his looks from; you only need to see his mom’s round face and wide eyes, not to mention her mousy hair, to see the resemblance. Nana has a lot less wildness in her, but that just gives him hope that one day he won’t have to deal with the mess that is his hair. 

“How was school?” Nana says with a smile, flower pattern apron curling around her knees and jade bracelet tinkling around the wooden spoon she’s using to stir curry. And Hana wonders where Tsuna gets all his tricks from. Nana might come across as airheaded and naive, but she also tends to get the best fresh ingredients at the market and the most frequent promotions at the stores and restaurants they go to. Her smile is even more powerful than Tsuna’s. 

“Good,” Tsuna responds, dumping his homework on the table and snagging a seat. There’s already a half drunk pot of tea, and he quickly sets about pouring himself a cup. 

“Your math class?” Nana asks, turning to face her son. Tsuna shrugs. 

“Dismal as usual, the teacher spent the whole time texting on his phone,” he says, flipping his books until he gets to his current history project. If he finishes it tonight and does the word problems for English, he’ll be able to spend the whole day playing games in his room on Sunday. He doesn’t even bother opening his math booklet. 

“Hmm,” Nana hums, tapping a finger to her mouth, “that’s no good, math is an important life skill, you know.” 

Tsuna shrugs again, unconcerned. He has Hana if he wants to learn anything math related, and somehow he doubts he’ll go into a career that relies heavily on it. Part of him figures he’ll do like Nana did and just marry up - find a nice, hard working businesswoman and bat his eyes at her a few times. 

Or, just team up with Kyoko for the rest of his life, like they keep talking about. He bets their wedding would be beautiful. Or, if he wants something a little more challenging, wear down Hibari even more and just move into his family mansion. 

“You know, I just got a flyer in the mail for a tutoring service,” Nana muses, “if your teachers are going to be so bad all the time, it might be a good idea to look into something like that.”

Tsuna scrunches his nose. 

“Can’t I just get Hana to tutor me?” He asks. 

“You know if you try that both of you will get distracted by something. Friends don’t make good tutors,” Nana says with a smile. 

Tsuna puffs out his cheeks but doesn’t argue. Hana always tries to keep them on track, but it always ends up with them arguing over something stupid or letting Kyoko drag them into some sort of plot. 

“I’m not sure a stranger would be better,” he says instead, but Nana is already turning back to the curry, mind made up. 

“I’ll call them after supper, ok? I think it will do some good,” she says cheerfully, ignoring Tsuna’s groan.

“You say that now, but I bet you anything it’s not going to be any better than school,” he says. He’s not sure he trusts any tutors that advertise by flyer, anyways. It’s probably a scam. 

“Oh hush, you’ve got to be optimistic about these things,” Nana says. 

—

Tsuna is not optimistic about these things. Especially when these things involve a baby with guns. He lasts as long as it takes for the baby—Reborn—to start spouting stuff about the mafia and his inheritance, all while waving a gun around, before he breaks. 

“Hold on,” he says with a smile, not even flinching at the gun in his face. Under Reborn’s suspicious eyes he turns around and launches himself face first onto his bed. His scream gets muffled by the multitude of pillows that line it. One of his stuffed animals tumbles down and lands by the baby’s feet. 

There’s the audible click of Reborn turning the safety off of his gun, and the fact that Tsuna even recognises the sound makes him despair for his sanity. Suddenly the men that keep showing up only to get kicked around by Hibari make sense. They’re mafia. Except no, that doesn’t make sense at all. 

“Ok, I think I’m ready now,” he says after the oxygen deprivation cools his head. Upon seeing Reborn—holding the gun and still staring so seriously—he reconsiders. 

—

“If you’re done,” Reborn says calmly, watching Tsuna go right back onto the bed, this time with a fit of laughter. When the boy just continues suffocating himself in linen, Reborn hums and switches the rounds in his gun to live ammunition. Sure enough, the boy pops right back up, suddenly perfectly serious, despite the fact that there’s no way for him to have seen the switch. Or have known that the previous bullets were rubber.

Sealed Flames, huh, he thinks. Must have been a pretty patchy seal if he has access to his intuition already. Not to mention the sky attraction. Even just from a few days observation he’s seen the boy use it consciously at least twice, and he seems to be subconsciously keeping a low grade version active constantly. If Reborn wasn’t who he is and protected by other Skies and their reach, no doubt he would be feeling it too. 

Which means he can't use the methods he would normally use against an untrained, sealed civilian. Pity. He was looking forward to the mayhem. And watching the boy humiliate himself while in Dying Will mode.

“You can’t be that surprised,” he tells the boy, “not with the sudden uptick of rats coming out of the woodwork.”

“I figured dad must have gotten into some gambling debts or something,” Tsuna says. Which, knowing Iemitsu, isn’t that far a leap to make. 

“Unfortunately this isn’t something that will go away by paying off a few debts or beating up a few thugs,” Reborn grunts, waving his gun. “We’re talking about the fate of the biggest mafia family in the world.”

“And you want me to take over?” The boy says incredulously, at least showing some sense of introspection. As far as Reborn is concerned, Tsuna is the last person he’d want at the helm of a mafia family, based solely on his grades and his weak body. Personality wise, observation hasn't told him too much, but what it has told him he’s not impressed by either. 

“It’s not a matter of want. The last thing Vongola wants is a civilian boss. Which is why I’m here, as the world’s strongest hitman. There’s no one better to train you for the position,” Reborn responds. 

“But...why would they send an assassin to teach about management?”

Reborn pauses. Why would they send an assassin to teach about management? Probably because Vongola doesn’t do a whole lot of managing, but he can’t say that. 

“You’re not being hired to supervise a bunch of pencil pushers in an office, if we don’t get you strong enough soon enough, there’s a good chance you’ll die. Either by rival families, or from me killing you out of embarrassment.” Here Reborn aims his gun the boy’s way again. “So we better start.” 

—

Too-mature babies with guns, the mafia, his no-good father, and, to top it off, when Tsuna wakes up the next morning—after refusing the position of Vongola boss a few times and dodging Reborn’s bullets in answer—

“Do you have a crush on her?” Reborn asks, eyes catching on Kyoko up ahead. Tsuna snorts and tries to cover it with a cough, only succeeding in choking a little. 

“Kyoko-chan? Not really, but I figure we’ll get married when we’re older,” he says, mostly truthfully. The oddity of him and Kyoko is one that even Hana has given up on. 

Reborn’s glinty eyed stare intensifies, and Tsuna suddenly realises he might have been too honest.

“Ohh?” the baby says, inserting just enough sly knowing in there that Tsuna blushes, even if it’s not like that at all. He scrambles to explain in a way that won’t turn Kyoko into a mafia princess or something. 

“We made a pact. We’re still debating the merits of other people though, and I have a thousand yen on her convincing Hana to elope to France. But if we can’t find anyone else by the time we’re twenty four, we have the papers prepared already.” 

There’s a pause. 

“That’s the best friend?” Reborn asks slowly, and Tsuna nods. Despite the baby’s stoneface, he can almost see the thought process going through his head. 

“The position of mafia wife is a prestigious one,” Reborn says, “you’ll have to pick a good candidate. The fact that you’re thinking outside of love is a good one.” 

And yep, there it is. 

“Well, I’m not going to be a mafia boss, so that’s not my reasoning,” Tsuna mutters, but Reborn pretends not to hear him. They’re close enough now to Kyoko and Hana that Tsuna suddenly realises he doesn’t know how he’s going to explain Reborn’s presence. 

And it’s just his luck that it’s Hana that sees them first.

“Sawada...and strange looking small child, hello,” she says, glancing down at Reborn and frowning at his whole...Reborn-ness. 

“Ciao,” Reborn says with a slight head tip, before staring back. Hana’s eyes narrow further. Tsuna’s pretty sure the battle of wills brings about actual sparks in the air around them. 

“Hmmm, interesting,” Reborn says with a smirk, and Tsuna can feel the chill run down his spine. Hana’s eyes are practically slits now. 

“Yeah, interesting,” she agrees.


End file.
